|
|
|
|
|
|
|
calculating mind. What if this stiff really didn't know what to do? What if she had actually uncovered a first timer? She stifled the urge to laugh. What the hell, she thought, why not? Everybody had to start somewhere. It might be fun. Then she had a second thought; what if he were soft all over? Maybe his hands weren't the only things that were spongy. This time she did laugh, out loud. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
''Yeah, I do," he stammered, " . . . do you?" |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Maybe I'd feel better if I did have something to drink," she admitted. "A little gin, maybe; second shelf, in the cabinet over the sink." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Harvey located the gin, hunted up two glasses, managed to get them filled and, following Cappy's instructions, added some lime juice. When he came out of the kitchen, she playfully patted the couch beside her, and he sat down. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"You're so sweet, Harry. This sure can't be any fun for you. First night back in civilization and your date up and gets sick on you." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Harvey started to tell her his name, but she leaned forward impulsively and kissed him on the cheek. His skin was as smooth as hers, nothing even faintly resembled a beard. On balance, he looked more flustered than appreciative of the overture. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Harvey, I have to ask you something." |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
He had the drink tightly clenched between |
|
|
|
|
|